Delirium
by blakeBird
Summary: There were not a lot of things Roy Mustang did not know how to do, and caring for a bedridden teenager was certainly one of them. He just had to hope they didn’t both die in the process of Edward’s recovery.
1. chapter 1

Yoooo.

Heh, sorry for the EXTREMELY long wait for this to come out. Been crazy busy.

Also sorry if the writing style changes, 'cause you know, it took me way too long to write this and I took several breaks in the middle.

Warning for language and emetophobia triggers.

On with the thing! (P.S., it gets softer the more you read.)

xxx

"I want death."

Edward rolled over yet again on the couch, getting tangled in his blankets while doing so.

Roy flashed him a deadpan look. "You don't mean that, Fullmetal."

The boy continued to flounder around in fake agony for a bit longer, before finally surrendering to the covers that pinned him face-first on his pillow, his arms and legs bound by the fabric. "...Yes," came his muffled reply.

"Would you stop behaving like the small child you look like and act your age for once?"

The comment motivated Ed to aggressively attempt to roll over in order to more properly hurl obscenities at his commanding officer, but instead, he tumbled off the sofa and landed with a soft _thump!_ onto the carpeted floor.

"Oww... Look what you did, Bastard." Edward let out an annoyed huff of air, laying on the floor, sulking. Mustang looked at him from over the top of the book he was reading and raised a skeptical eyebrow. "You gonna get up?"

"No... I kinda like it here."

Roy sighed. "You can't move, can you?"

"Nope," Ed replied, popping the "p" in a childish manner.

Roy sighed yet again and put his book momentarily to the side. Edward really could be such an annoying brat when he was sick.

As he approached the teen, Roy was tempted to just poke the little hell-raiser with his foot and watch him suffer, just as he himself had suffered under Ed's constant whining. He instead knelt and untangled the blonde from his blankets, Ed just watching and not contributing at all. In the process of removing the blond from the covers, Roy's hand brushed against Ed's forehead. A slight heat radiated from it, and a small spark of worry formed in the Colonel's chest. Frowning, the man touched both sides of his hand against Ed's head. Definitely a fever. Again.

"That's what it was. Your fever is literally making you drunk."

"I'm not drunk! You need drugs for that," he slurred.

"Alchohol."

"You need alcohol for that."

Ed's tired and bagged eyes followed Roy as he made his way out of the room, and continued to stay on him as the black-haired man made his swift return, a thermometer in hand. Returning to Ed's spot on the floor, Roy held out the plastic thermometer. "Open."

Ed turned his nose up. "No."

"You do realize I have the power to kick your sorry ass out of my house and onto the streets, right?"

Edward glared at him as he opened his mouth. Roy shoved the end of the thermometer underneath the elder Elric's tongue, despite the blond's noise of protest. While Ed's temperature was being gauged, Roy basically dragged the sulking boy back onto the couch. God, automail was heavy. The fifteen-year-old rolled onto his back as the Colonel made his way around the room, searching for the acetaminophen he had given Ed the night before to combat the same fever. Where did he put the damn thing? As Roy made his way into his rather bare kitchen, the thermometer went off in Edward's mouth.

"Roy."

The Colonel scanned the countertops and came up with fruitless results. He turned to the cabinets.

"Roooy."

"What, Fullmetal?" Mustang was trying his best not to get angry with the child. To be honest, he didn't know how much more pestering he could take.

"It's beeping."

"Yes, I know," the man sighed, digging through his mess of a medicine cabinet.

"What do I do?"

"Leave it there."

"But it's beeping."

"Just leave the damn thing in your mouth until I can look at it!" Well, so much for keeping his temper in check.

"It says 101 degrees."

"Edward, I told you to leave it."

"Where do I put it?"

Angrily, Roy grabbed the now-found bottle of medicine and slammed the door shut. "I don't give a fu-"

 _It's just the fever talking, just the fever._

"Just put it anywhere."

Mustang strolled back into the room, mentally preparing himself. Ed was so ridiculous when he was sick, dammit!

Now that it was mentioned...

Edward never acted in such ways. Mustang just assumed that he was being difficult to annoy his officer, or maybe that he had given into the defeat that he had to stay with Roy while he recovered. Still, it was rather suspicious. Maybe Fullmetal just got delirious when his temperature rose more than five degrees above normal. Perhaps his automail complications were to blame.

For all Roy knew, the boy could have just chugged a whole bottle of cough syrup while the Colonel wasn't looking for a bet or something.

You could never really tell with Edward.

Trading two small, red pills for the thermometer, Roy grabbed the mostly-full glass of water that was on standby with his free hand and shoved it towards his subordinate. "Drink the whole thing and don't even think about complaining. I will not hesitate to smack you, sick or not."

This earned Roy a hard stare, but the teen obeyed and chugged the glass. Once he had downed the whole thing, he slammed the glass down in triumph on the small stand that was placed next to the frayed sofa. The blond eyed Roy as if to say, 'See? I can follow directions, you bastard.'

Taking note of the boy's pale face, Roy asked, "What's wrong at the moment?"

"I'm missing an arm and a leg. Those are pretty important and I want them back."

"Don't be a smartass, Fullmetal. I'm talking about symptoms."

Edward rolled his eyes but answered anyways. "Um, I'm freezing all the time, I get dizzy if I stand up, which sucks, it feels like someone went over the inside of my throat with sandpaper-"

"It sounds like it too. You should hear yourself, it's hilarious." Ed glared at him and made a face. "Do continue, Fullmetal."

"My head is killing me, you know everything, in general, has been killing me since you made me roll off the couch, so thanks, Colonel Bastard."

"Anything else?" Roy asked exasperatedly.

"This feels kinda weird." Ed pointed to his stomach.

Roy sighed. "I swear, Fullmetal, if you throw up on my carpet..."

"I'm fine, don't worry about it. But if I do feel like I'm about to puke, I'll be sure to accidentally not make it to the bathroom."

"Oh Lord in heaven, what did I ever do to deserve this devil child?"

"And what did I ever do to get stuck with this idiot?" Ed shot back.

He was being just as much of an asshole as usual. Ed couldn't really be _that_ sick.

Roy hoped he wasn't.

xxx

The day passed without much event, and Roy was very glad for that. The only reason Edward was semi-behaving himself was the experience he had when he first arrived at Mustang's small apartment. Roy shuddered when he thought back to it.

Never again.

A sick, whining Edward was much better than a sick, aggressive one.

But finally, it seemed that the young alchemist had accepted his fate of being stuck with Mustang and had come to terms with the idea that there was really nothing he could do about it.

Roy was glad. He would have been gladder if Ed wasn't complaining every five minutes, but that was probably the best that the Colonel would get.

Looking over the stack of paperwork that Riza made the man take with him, he saw that the blond had fallen asleep (finally). Edward's automail hung off of the sofa, barely grazing the floor. Roy really should have gotten a bigger couch...

The young alchemist snored gently, his expression peaceful. His golden hair was free from its usual braid, and it laid messily around his shoulders, giving an ethereal look. Such a shame that the boy wasn't in Roy's apartment on better terms. Even if it really didn't seem true at times, Mustang was glad Ed had crashed at his place, even if the man didn't know heads from tails when it came to treating a common illness.

Edward had still teased Mustang for the shape of his minuscule apartment instead of expressing any form of gratitude, though. The man barely owned any more furniture than his bed and couch... But still, Roy would like to see Ed try and maintain a home life on the low military wages he received. It really was harder than it looked.

Roy pulled his gaze from his subordinate back to his paperwork for the umpteenth time, sighing. He simply couldn't stop worrying. Sure, there wasn't anything seriously wrong, and Ed had been in much more dire situations before, but this was different. This was more... intimate. This was something that the boy couldn't physically fight and had no control over. Roy was confident in the blonde's physical strength and alchemic powers and trusted that Ed could hold his own in a fight. But with illness, there was nothing you could do but let it run its course. Roy could only sit back and watch, and nothing pained him more than being useless.

The colonel reminded himself again that Ed would be fine. Mustang shifted uncomfortably in his folding chair and scribbled his signature on the document in front of him.

After a while of going through the same routine, a soft moan interrupted Roy from his work. He looked up to see Ed's eyebrows pulled tightly together, conflict written across his sweaty and pale face. The blonde's hands were balled into fists against his chest which heaved laboriously. The boy's sleeping form was curled into itself, and he lay in almost a fetal position.

"Fullmetal?" Roy hesitantly lifted himself from his chair, creeping towards his subordinate. The blond seemed to be having a nightmare, perhaps a fever-induced one. Another moan broke from Edward's lips, verging on a pitiful whimper. Without hesitation, Mustang shook his shoulder lightly in order to arouse him from whatever horror-filled dream he was experiencing. "Fullmetal."

"Don't w... not... her..," the boy breathed lightly, his words barely decipherable. "-leave..." Ed's speech was so light that he could have been sleep-talking for hours and Roy would have never known. The fact bothered the Colonel for a reason the man couldn't figure out. "No- don... m..."

"Edward!" Roy shook the teen's shoulder again and, finally, Ed's eyes flew open as his breath hitched. Wide, golden eyes dilated as the blond processed the scene before him. Suddenly his expression flinched as if the torment he has unconsciously suffered just came back to him. But only for a split second. Then it went blank.

Edward looked at the Colonel in confusion. Roy could tell it was fake.

"You were having a nightmare or something, Fullmetal." Mustang took his arm back to his side.

"W-was I?" The boy licked his dry lips nervously as a single bead of sweat ran down his face. The boy wiped it away with the back of his flesh hand. "Guess I don't remember it."

"Right..." Roy didn't buy a word of it. It was like since the boy was sick his lying ability had plummetted.

Ed let out a panting breath and combed a hand through his sweaty, golden hair. He was trembling. Mustang had noticed that he wasn't doing so in his sleep, so it wasn't the fever giving him a false sense of cold... it was an adrenaline rush. The blond squeezed his eyes harshly shut, sighing.

"You're shaking." Mustang's eyebrows drew together in concern.

"Yeah, well, I'm damn freezing." The Colonel drew closer to the boy once again, touching his forehead even though he knew what he would find. It was only slightly warm, nothing near enough to cause cold flashes. Being precautious nonetheless, Roy switched the thermometer on and held it towards his subordinate. Ed grabbed it with unsteady hands and stuck it under his tongue, propping himself up with his automail arm. Pain briefly ran across his features, and the boy immediately shifted his position.

 _Oh, that's right. His automail ports are probably extra tender._

The thermometer went off quickly, not needing much time to gauge the almost-normal body temperature. Mustang plucked it from Edward's mouth and read it: 99.1.

"Good news, Fullmetal, it's down to low-grade."

Surprisingly, Ed moaned and pulled his blanket tighter around himself. "I predict that it'll drop about a degree and then shoot up really high. Happens every time." The fear seemed to be slowly creeping out of the fifteen-year-old's system along with the fever. "Damn thing never knows when to go away," he mumbled.

"Not unlike yourself, it seems." Surprisingly, Ed didn't retort with a sarcastic response like he usually would have. "Oh, come on," Roy mused, tossing the thermometer aside. "It couldn't have been worse than when you first got here."

Ed flashed him a deadpan look. "Strap in for a bumpy ride."

Easing himself back into his chair, Roy sighed. "Just don't try to bite me like a rabid animal, alright? 'Dog of the military' isn't literal."

The teen smirked. "No promises." The colonel groaned and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He already had it bad enough, and now he had to deal with this?

Edward stood and stretched, sighing. "I feel gross. I'm gonna shower before it gets bad again."

"Joy. Just make sure not to turn the water on too hot, it'll just make your fever worse."

Motioning to his metallic arm and leg, Ed snapped, "It's not like I can make it hot anyway, dumbass." Tossing the blanket onto the sofa, Ed strode into Roy's small bathroom.

"Don't take too long, Fullmetal!" Roy felt like a nagging parent.

"Yeah, yeah..," came the boy's reply, muffled by the door. A minute later, Roy heard the soft _pitter-patter_ of water hitting porcelain. God, his water pressure sucked. Roy desperately needed to upgrade it. Hell, he needed to upgrade his entire apartment. Not that he would ever get around to it...

His mind wandering, Roy thought back to Ed's behavior as he fiddled with his pen. Edward sure was a mystery. He had recovered at a shocking speed from his nightmare, and the Colonel had never seen anything like it. Perhaps he was just so used to doing it. Also, why hadn't he pressed Ed for more details? Edward surely would have spilled, considering his current state. But something in the man didn't want to take advantage of his subordinate like that. He wanted the teen to tell him when he was ready, not when he was weak and vulnerable and helpless to interrogation. Mustang would just have to wait, then. He didn't really mind as long as Ed trusted him in the end.

A faint voice rang in Roy's ears, a quiet and almost calming hum of vocals coming from the bathroom. For once, Roy was glad for his paper-thin walls. He had never heard Ed do more than shout at him, much less hum a melody. It was a peaceful and soft sort of tune, round and lullaby-like. He had never heard it before. It held the bittersweet ring of a childhood and innocence now ruined. It was... beautiful. Despite Ed's course voice, the sound of him singing was ethereal, like an angel's. A smile tugged at the Colonel's lips. Who knew the boy could sing?

Slowly and hesitantly, the teen's humming dissipated into words. Roy listened closely for the lyrics.

 _"Sleep my child,_

 _Dream sweetly, in the warmth and_

 _Comfort of your bed._

 _I watch you, always you,_

 _I hold only you to my breast, tenderly,_

 _I have always held you to me._

 _Carried away in your sleep,_

 _In a field of flowers, my children, sleep_

 _Sleep sweetly, my child._

 _Gently now,_

 _Without your father, children,_

 _loved only by your mother._

 _I watch you, always you,_

 _Your heart I watch, may it have no pain,_

 _Sleep sweetly, my child._

 _In the room without your mother,_

 _In the room until the dawn."_

Mustang went back to signing his documents, still grinning. So it _was_ a lullaby, after all. It was very beautiful, and the lyrics perfectly matched the melody. As the lyrics repeated, the man pondered over where Ed had learned the song. Most likely from his late mother, in her time before death. The boy must have been quite young when she passed, and it was impressive that Ed remembered the lullaby over the trauma he had suffered. Roy respected that about the young alchemist.

Suddenly, the peaceful singing was broken by a series of harsh coughs. It didn't seem to be stopping. Mustang was already halfway out of his chair when finally the painful hacking subsided. Nevertheless, Roy strode to the door and rapped on it with his knuckles. Worry stirred in his chest. "Fullmetal?"

There was a faint "ow" from the other side of the door. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Be out in a second."

 _Alright, then._

Taking a seat once again, Roy trained his charcoal eyes on the door, abandoning his paperwork at last. The gentle noise of the water died down. Edward appeared in the doorway a moment later, scrubbing at his automail with a towel. The boy raised an eyebrow at the Colone's staring but didn't say anything. Mustang pretended to focus on the documents in front of him as the teen flopped back onto the couch. He carefully and precisely dried between every crevice in his automail, expression relaxed as if he had done the job hundreds of times before. As soon as he turned his metal arm over, however, pain traced across his features. Roy decided not to say anything. He couldn't give him any painkillers and the boy hated being fussed over.

"You should put your hair up." Roy startled himself. He hadn't actually intended to say that.

"What?" Edward's golden hair sat on his shoulders, dampening his shirt.

"You're gonna be freezing."

The fourteen-year-old rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say, Colonel Bastard."

"I don't want you bitching about it later." In all truth, he didn't want this sickness to be any harder on the boy than it had to be.

Grudgingly, Ed started to put his hands behind his head in order to braid it back but stopped short. He grabbed at his automail port and hissed through his teeth. "Damn it." He attempted again but could only hold his arm up for a few seconds at the most.

"Here." Mustang found himself rising from his seat. "Let me do it."

"What? No! I can do it just fine!" The blond attempted again to lift his arm up but failed as expected. "My ports are just sore is all."

"Just suck it up and let me braid your damn hair. If you can't do it then I will." Edward groaned as Mustang grabbed a brush from the bathroom drawer and seated himself next to the young alchemist, motioning for the boy to turn around.

"This is so stupid." Ed sighed but obeyed nonetheless. Gripping the bush as if he were charging into battle, the raven-haired man gathered all of the boy's golden hair behind his back. He started the first stroke at the base of the scalp and ran the comb down through the thick, silky strands. Roy was mildly surprised at how long it felt compared to how long it looked. He gently went in for the second stroke. Then the third. Then the fourth. It felt so eerily natural to him, almost like some forgotten instinct Roy didn't even know he had. As he continued to coax out the tangles and knots from the blond's hair, the teen sighed and tilted his head back while closing his eyes, seemingly tired of putting up an aggressive front. A slight smile turned up the corners of Roy's lips at the sight of the boy finally giving in to himself.

Setting the brush aside, he ran his fingers over the boy's scalp several times, smoothening out any bumps that presented themselves. He ran his hand through the golden hair once more, just for the fun of it. With deliberate slowness and care, Roy braided Ed's hair back into its usual braid, tying it back with Ed's band when he finished. The man brushed his fingertips across the length of the braid, checking for any excuse that he could use in order to tie it back again.

Why did he like it so much? The colonel couldn't figure it out. It was like he was regaining some forgotten instinct he had never experienced, like he was yearning for something he never had in the first place. Roy never knew he had ever wanted to be this close to his subordinate. Well, at least his logic didn't want it. His instincts did. Mustang enjoyed seeing past the boy's walls for once. Ed had a soft side, a vulnerable side. A helpless side. A childish side. Hell, he still _was_ a child. It pained the man that much more to know that Ed never had a chance to be a kid. He had to act like an adult all the time. He had been forced to grow up so unbearably soon.

Shaking his head to clear up his thoughts, Roy looked back at his handiwork. It didn't actually look half bad. That didn't stop him from wanting to ruffle it up just to be able to pull it back again. Taking the end of the braid in his hand, the Colonel flipped it up and said, "There, done. That wasn't so bad, was it, Fullmetal?"

"Yeah, whatever." Ed ran his flesh hand over the braid as if gauging its quality. Seemingly satisfied with his superior's work, the teen mumbled, "Thanks."

"What was that?" Roy smirked, moving off of the couch to return the brush to its drawer.

"Nothing, bastard."

Edward rolled around with his back to the man, but Roy didn't need to see his face to know he was blushing furiously. Affection stirred in the chest of the dark-haired officer like a gentle heat warming his abdomen. He rather liked it. It was new, something Mustang hadn't felt since he was young. It took the man by surprise that he longed for somebody to care for. Even though he and Ed were polar opposites, he couldn't help feeling a responsibility for the teen. Edward was going to end up driving himself into the ground if somebody didn't look after him. Sure, he could piss the colonel off like no other, but he also had the ability to induce such positive emotions in the man.

Roy hoped the feeling would never end.

xxx

It wasn't long before Mustang noticed the boy shivering underneath his frayed blanket. Edward shifted his position several times, uncomfortable and restless, tired of drifting in and out of sleep. His face, instead of taking on the tell-tale blush of a fever, had grown increasingly pale, making the bags underneath his eyes stand out in contrast. Ed's usually bright eyes had turned dull and tired like the rest of his appearance. His messy braid hung over his shoulders, slightly undone due to the constant tossing and turning. Roy had caught him trying to suppress a coughing fit on a few occasions, ultimately failing each time. Each time the raven-haired man would ask the teen about it, he would demand that he was fine and didn't need anything. Every time his protests became weaker.

Why was he either complaining every other second or denying that anything was wrong at all? This child was taking years off of his life for sure.

Deciding that enough was enough, Roy crossed the small room and laid his hand on the boy's forehead. It was hot to the touch. "Hey..." Ed offered a weak protest and attempted to push his superior's hand away, frowning when it didn't work.

"You're pretty warm. I'm taking your temperature again."

"Don't say I didn't warn you. Because I did." His sentences were slowly becoming less coherent and more childlike.

Roy retrieved the thermometer for the umpteenth time and stood in front of the boy. "Open."

Ed squinted at him suspiciously. "You're not my boss."

"Yes, technically I am, Fullmetal. I'm your boss _and_ your legal guardian. Don't make me suspend your license."

Ed's hazy eyes wandered toward the floor. "Just... Just don't take me to a hospital, 'cause it'll get high. But that's normal for me." He paused and added, "I don't like hospitals."

"If it gets to 105 I'm hauling your small ass in no matter what you like or don't like."

"No hospitals. Promise me that you won't," Ed pouted. His demeanor had changed dramatically, and that worried the Colonel.

"Fine. I promise." Seemingly satisfied, Edward parted his dry lips willingly as Roy placed the tool in the teen's mouth. It took longer than the last time to go off. Mustang plucked it from the young alchemist's mouth and read the numbers out loud. "101.8. Damn, Fullmetal. That didn't take long." Ed shot him a look that said _I told you so_. "You know what goes after this, kid, so list your symptoms." As Ed opened his mouth Mustang added, "And don't think about complaining, either."

The boy gave a look of dissatisfaction but continued nevertheless. "Um, I guess it's just my throat. And head. And automail. And I can't really breathe so I have to suffocate when you give me the thermometer. That's not very considerate, bastard. And my face is really hot. Is that normal?" Edward rambled on with seemingly the attention span of a goldfish. Is that what he was like under the influence of a fever?

"Yes, Fullmetal, it's normal."

Ed sat back on his pillow once again, massaging his eyes with his flesh hand. Roy grabbed the pill bottles that lay on the side table and selected two pills for his subordinate: one for the fever and one for the pain. The blond took them dry.

Mustang tried to think, wracking his brain for any useful information that he could use in order to treat the child. Ed's throat hurt, right? What were you supposed to do about that? Tea?

Deciding he might as well try, Mustang strode into the kitchen. After going through his cabinets, he found a box full of green tea bags. He couldn't remember where he had gotten them in the first place as well as how old they were. Oh well. It would probably be fine. Roy filled a rusty kettle with water and let it heat on the stove. What was he supposed to put in the tea again?

"Fullmetal, what am I supposed to put in the tea?"

"What?" came a groggy reply.

"I don't know what I'm doing." The colonel looked around his small kitchen like a child would if they lost their mother at the supermarket.

"Yeah, that's pretty obvious." Roy rolled his eyes and rummaged through his cabinets some more.

After a few minutes of silence, Mustang asked, "So do you know or not?"

"How am I supposed to know?"

Roy threw his hands up in the air. "How am _I_ supposed to know? I've never done this before!"

"Well, figure it out then! It's really not that hard."

"'Really not that hard' my ass," the man murmured under his breath. Suddenly, his eye caught the lid of a jar in the very back of his cabinet. Roy reached back, knocking over several items in the process, and pulled out a near-empty jar of a thick, golden-brown liquid. Upon closer inspection, the colonel found it to be honey. That would work, right? Turning the jar around, he noticed how old it looked. Did honey even have an expiration date? He just hoped that he wouldn't end up killing his subordinate with it.

He had never been more clueless in his life.

A sudden high-pitched whistle sounding behind him made the man jump. Steam blew from the kettle and Roy fumbled with the stove, turning it off and stopping the blue flames that licked the base of the kettle. He would need a mug, right? Did he even have one of those that wasn't either broken or dirty? After a quick search through his cabinets, Mustang produced a chipped, off-white mug, the inside splotched with rings of coffee stains. Good enough. He took the kettle by the handle and poured the near-boiling water into the cup, steam rising off of the liquid. The Colonel continued to lower the tea bag down into the mug by the string, dropping it once it was safely deposited. After struggling to open the jar of honey, he stirred in a generous helping of the thick, golden liquid.

He poked the tea bag around with the spoon while he waited for the tea to get darker, elbow on the counter and chin resting on his palm. This would be okay, right?

Right?

Roy dropped the spoon with a clatter and held his face in his hands in a frustrated manner. He wasn't fit to be doing this! Mustang had no clue what he was doing, and at any rate, he would end up killing the kid! Edward just _had_ to be so stubborn as to force his brother to leave in order to continue the research that Ed himself was missing. It wasn't like Alphonse could even bring the books and papers with him to assist Roy, either, because Ed would only put up a fight and try to study Al's books as soon as nobody was looking. And Hawkeye was temporarily taking over for a higher-ranked assistant, so she couldn't help Roy care for the teen. Even if he got the balls to ask her to help him, it wasn't like he could find her anyways. Her temporary commander was running her all over Central! Mustang couldn't ask one of his other subordinates because they were all single guys and probably just as clueless as himself. Roy couldn't ship the boy off to Resimbool, either, because he didn't trust Ed to actually take the train there and even if he did, it would be a solid day of travel. Edward was in no condition for that.

So there he found himself, standing there in his tiny, outdated kitchen holding his face in his hands with a sick and not-quite-lucid as well as aggressive teenager taking up his couch. This was a really, really bad idea. He knew how to cauterize a wound and give stitches and stop bleeding and revive someone and so many other vital actions, but how to treat a common illness? That was way out of his league. Roy groaned loudly and ran his hands through his dark hair. He and Ed were both going to barely survive this.

Glancing down at the mug on the counter, Mustang saw that there was only a very faint trail of steam rising from the dark liquid. After tasting it (just to be sure he did everything right), the man threw the tea bag in the trash and strode back into the living area, mug in hand. Ed glanced up at him with heavily-lidded eyes. "What were you even doing? It sounded like you were dying or something, weirdo. That's what I'm supposed to be doing." His voice was slowly growing more course-sounding.

Roy sighed and passed him the mug. "I was just doing a little suffering for the sake of your ungrateful ass." The teen peered into the mug and inhaled the faint aroma coming from it.

"What's this?"

"Tea. Drink it." The Colonel glanced into the cup once more, just to make sure nothing had changed since he had passed it off to the teen. "Don't worry, I tasted it. It's not bad so don't use that as an excuse to not finish it." Roy collapsed into his seat, scooting towards his paperwork once more.

Edward scrunched up his nose. "Okay, that's gross. Why did you drink it? If I drink it now, that'll be, like, secondary kissing or something."

Not even looking up, Roy replied, "I tasted it to make sure I didn't accidentally poison you, as much as I would enjoy it. It's not dangerous as far as I can tell, and if it is I suppose we'll both die. And secondary kissing? How old are you, five?"

Ed rolled his eyes at the man lazily. Hesitantly, he raised the mug to his lips and took a sip of the warm liquid. Much to Roy's surprise, the young alchemist's expression softened and his eyes closed. He took a deeper and more filling drink, almost leaning into it. The blond brought the cup away from his chapped lips, sighing.

 _What the hell?_

Edward looked up at Roy, his eyes a tiny bit brighter. "What... What's in this?" He motioned to the mug. His voice was dreamy.

"Nothing special, it's just green tea and honey. You look like I just gave you drugs or something, Fullmetal."

The boy took another sip. "My mother used to make this."

Roy gave a little start. Edward never spoke of his mother or anything related to her. The man didn't expect Ed to just blatantly share something like that with him. It was very unexpected, to say the least.

But had he seriously gotten the whole tea thing right? He was honestly just grasping at straws.

The Colonel cleared his throat, unsure of how to respond. He was halfway nervous for some reason. "O-Oh? Is that right?"

"Yeah. I remember the taste. It's the same." The teen's eyebrows pulled together in conflict as he took another drink. "Did you get this from her?"

"No." The boy's face fell ever so slightly and Roy scrambled to fix his mistake. "I mean, no, I didn't get it from her, but I could just, uh, tell that-"

"Can you make this more often?" Ed cut him off mid-sentence. "It's been years. Since I've had this I mean. It's nice."

"Yeah. Yeah, of course." Roy shook his head, completely dumbfounded by the conversation. It seemed almost casual when it should have been a heavy and tense topic.

"Okay. Good." The boy took another sip from the mug. Deciding to shrug off his confusion and conflicted emotions, Roy smiled. He was glad that he could offer his subordinate at least some form of comfort.

Edward tipped the last of the mug's contents into his mouth and set the container aside. Settling back onto the small couch, he mumbled, "Thanks. It was good." He already seemed to be losing against the tug of sleep.

"You're welcome, Fullmetal."

"It helped." Ed's golden eyes barely remained open and his voice slurred, thick with sleepiness.

"Helped with what, might I ask?"

Edward had already fallen asleep, a slight, peaceful smile decorating his face.

xxx

Okay, so I really hope you liked this chapter :D

I didn't write those lyrics, by the way, I ain't that good. It's the English translation of _Trisha's Lullaby._

Funny thing-

I haven't been sick in eight years. I got strep and flu RIGHT in the middle of writing this.

This is what I get for making Ed suffer I suppose.

I guess it'll be more accurate for the readers since I'm not just researching it.

Also, I am very very sorry that it has taken me so long to write this. My depression has been especially *cough* extremely *cough* aggressive as of lately so please try to understand :)

:))))))))))

So I meant for this chapter to be short and nice and just an easy and fast thing to write, like a 2k or something, but then I look up at the word count and it'S AT FREAKING 10k AND I'M NOT HALFWAY DONE.

So.

This will be coming out in two, maybe three chapters.

AnYwAyS, I have lots of ideas and a new inspiration to write, so expect new chapters and stories soon.

Hope you enjoyed :)

Next chapter out soon.

Hugs, not drugs.

-Blake


	2. Chapter 2

This is part two of the last chapter.

Emetophobia warning.

Buckle up for a hint of Royai :)))))))))

Some major angst :))))))))))))))))))))

All that good sickfic content :))))))))))))))))))))))))

And papa Roy in action :))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

xxx

Light shone on the backs of Colonel Mustang's eyes, making his face scrunch in discomfort. Why was a light even on..? It was too late for this. He tried and failed to ignore it, hoping it was just the headlights from a passing car shining through his window that had interrupted his slumber. Slowly and reluctantly, he peered out into his dimly lit living room with one eye. Oh. Now he remembered. He was watching Fullmetal. Roy sighed and straightened in his stiff folding chair, groaning at the pain he felt in his back from sleeping in such a strange position. The Colonel rubbed his eyes to clear the blurriness from his vision and looked for the source of light that had penetrated his retinas. The bathroom door was open just a sliver, and golden light poured from it into the dark room, pointing straight at the Colonel's desk. What luck.

The man glanced at the couch to see that it was empty, only inhabiting a crumpled blanket. A spark of unease formed in the man's stomach.

 _He must be in the bathroom. That's all._ Despite what he told himself, Roy rushed over to the lavoritory door. Just to make sure. Being precautious in order to not be seen or heard by the boy, he peered through the small crack in the door. His heart jumped with a flash of parental panic. Edward was leaning against the wall next to the toilet, pressing his flesh hand against his mouth. His automail hung limply at his side. He was trembling violently, barely holding himself up as he panted laboriously through his fingers. The teen was on the verge of hyperventilating. Roy pushed his way through the door unhesitatingly, almost running to the aide of his surrogate son.

"Fullmetal?" The boy's panicked eyes darted in his direction before being screwed shut once more. The rate of his breathing increased as he tried to speak, barely getting out more than a whimper before clamping his hand back onto his mouth with more force than before. Roy touched his subordinate's back gently, moving closer to him. "No, don't speak. You're fine." This did nothing to assure the young alchemist, however, as he seemed all the more panicked by Roy's presence alone.

"Calm down, Fullmetal. You're fine." The Colonel shifted the boy's weight from the wall onto himself, steadying the teen against his strong frame. Mustang had barely even touched the boy and yet he could feel heat radiating from his subordinate. Ed's shoulders heaved with each heavy breath taken through his nose, and with each inhale he shuddered. Sweat dripped down the side of the boy's pale face.

Roy rubbed hesitant circles on the blond's back, trying desperately to calm him down. Why was Ed so freaked out? He could see the effort Edward was putting in to not being sick. Why wouldn't he just let it come?

"If you hold it in you'll make it worse. Just calm down and get it over with." The boy shook his head slightly, trying his hardest not to move and aggravate his stomach further. Roy could feel frustration as well as worry building in his chest. He didn't understand. Sure it was unpleasant and painful, but it would be fine once the deed was done. The man would just have to convince the boy to calm down.

"Fullmetal." He changed his tone to a stern one, looking the boy in the face. "Stop. Look at me." No response. "Look at me, Fullmetal." Nothing. "Edward." Ed's eyes opened with what seemed to be much effort and met Roy's charcoal ones. "Stop. You're okay. Whatever is gonna happen will happen and we're just gonna have to deal with it. Calm down and take a breath." The Colonel's words seemed to work ever so slightly, as his breathing slowed just a hint. But then it shot back up again, and the boy attempted to pull himself away from the man, shaking his head once again, causing him to stumble into the wall. The sudden movement jarred his sensitive automail leg, however, and Edward would have collapsed were it not for Roy. Mustang now fully held the young alchemist against his side, not trusting Ed to stand on his own. He could feel the boy's raging temperature through both of their shirts.

"Edward," Roy hissed, hoping that hearing his name would give Ed some sense of security. "Calm down. Stop fighting it." He tried to be firm and soothing at the same time. Ed wouldn't be persuaded in any other way and Mustang knew it.

As the blond's body shook, his eyes continued to widen with pure fear. He was terrified for some reason that Roy couldn't figure out.

Suddenly, Ed's frame was wracked with a violent shudder as he tried to suppress a cough, lunging forward in the process.

"Hey, easy there. You're okay." Roy tightened his grip. The teen's eyes still remained screwed shut as he clamped a hand over his mouth, swallowing repeatedly. "You're not gonna die, Edward, you're fine. Let it happen. It won't stop until you do it."

Ed still was breathing heavily through his nose, hyperventilating.

"It'll be unpleasant just for a second, but then it's done."

The boy didn't respond but still continued to fight against the urge to be sick.

"Edward. Calm down. I'm right here and I'm not going anywhere. I'm gonna make sure you're okay, I won't let anything happen." Edward was going to kill him as soon as he was lucid enough to remember it, but Roy didn't care. He needed to be there for his subordinate whether Ed liked it or not. For several minutes the Colonel whispered words of comfort into the young alchemist's ear, holding his weight and massaging circles into his back. And it seemed to work. Ed removed his hand from his mouth after a few minutes and steadied it on the edge of the porcelain toilet seat, bracing himself. He was still trembling uncontrollably.

The blond jerked forward as he coughed, almost losing his balance. Tears gathered in the corners of his eyes but they refused to fall.

"Easy, easy."

He coughed again, gagging as his automail arm twitched, trying and failing to wrap around his abdomen. Sensing what was coming next, Roy pulled Ed's bangs from his face as the boy retched into the porcelain bowl. He heaved several times, emptying the meager contents of his stomach. The wave of vomiting was over in just a few minutes, but it looked like absolute torture. Roy was at his side the whole time, never wavering to offer comfort and support. Edward sagged against the Colonel, head hanging and energy wasted as the man flushed the mess down the toilet. Roy led the blond to the sink, filling a plastic cup with water and letting Ed rinse the taste of bile from his mouth. It was pitiful. The boy's head lolled as if he didn't even have the energy to hold it up.

"Come on." Roy braced the boy and took a step forward, which proved to be a mistake. Ed had put weight on his metal leg in the process of moving and cried out in pain as he stumbled into the Colonel. "Damn, kid, I'm sorry." The man moved his subordinate with much more care, making sure to not once brush up against the automail. He couldn't even carry the boy because there was an artificial limb on both sides of Ed's body. After depositing the teen onto the couch and covering him with the blanket once more, Roy searched around frantically for the thermometer and pain meds. Ed seemed to have found his voice.

"I... I don't want to... die." His voice sounded as bad as his appearance looked. The young alchemist was still panting and sweating profusely, trembling all the while.

"You're not going to die. You're going to be just fine."

"I don't... want to die like her," he slurred. His eyes slid in and out of focus. Oh, God. How high could his fever possibly be?

Roy didn't reply but instead approached the teen with the thermometer. "Open up for me, Fullmetal."

"Why... don't you call me by m... my name?" Ed managed to ask between coughs. He seemed to be losing consciousness. The man couldn't tell if it was from the fever or simply the lack of energy.

He placed his palm on Ed's forehead, heart skipping a beat because of the heat he felt. "Would you like me to call you by your name?"

"Yeah... You did earlier..," Edward mumbled, his voice failing and eyes sliding shut.

"Hey, stay with me. You can't sleep yet." Roy tapped his cheek with one finger, keeping the boy alert.

"Mm... tired." A weak coughing fit overtook the blond, and Roy reached out and touched his arm in sympathy.

"Put this in your mouth and once it goes off you can sleep, okay?" Ed nodded lazily Mustang slid the end of the thermometer into the teen's mouth. "It's going to take a minute. I need you to stay awake until it makes a noise." The alchemist's unfocused, golden eyes met Roy's sharp, black ones and held the stare. Edward seemed to be staring at him in confusion. Just how much damage was the fever doing? The Colonel swallowed his fear and repeated what he had said to Ed inside his head. He was gonna be fine. He was okay. It would be fine.

The thermometer beeped gently, and Roy hastily plucked it from his subordinate's mouth, anxious to see the result. Glancing at the small digital screen, he breathed a small breath of relief. 103.1. Any healthy youth could fight that off without a problem. It was still a lot higher than Roy would have liked, but at least the boy's brain wasn't cooking in his skull.

"Colonel..?"

"Yes, Edward, you can go to sleep."

"Okay..." His eyes began to slide closed. "Am... I gonna be okay?"

"Yes. I promise."

"But I... it hurts. I don't feel right." Mustang could tell he was having a hard time staying conscious. His flesh arm curled around his abdomen unconsciously.

"I know. But you will. Just give it a little time."

"What... if I die? I d...on't want to die yet..." Ed's sentences were slowly becoming less decipherable.

"You won't. You're gonna be just fine."

"But s... she died like... how I am..." The teen's eyes finally slid shut, his head lolling against the arm of the sofa.

Damn. Roy had definitely signed up for more than he could handle. It was overwhelming. Edward never spoke of anything personal, and now it was all rushing out at the cause of a fever-induced state. But at least the Colonel now knew why the blond was so panicked. He felt stupid for not realizing it earlier. His mother had died of illness and probably had shared the same symptoms that Ed was experiencing. The boy must be living a nightmare.

But God... That had gotten intense. The situation surely would have spiraled out of control had the Colonel not shown up, and he was glad he did. He hated the idea of Ed suffering through that mental and physical torment alone. It pained him, also, that the blond wasn't able to or was too afraid to wake the man. Roy decided not to dwell on it. Edward clearly wasn't lucid enough to be making logical decisions, anyways.

Mustang stood and took a breath, trying to expel the shock and fear he still felt from facing the previous situation. It didn't work to the extent that he wanted it to. Deciding to keep himself occupied in order to dispell his nerves, Roy busied himself with making a cold compress. He pulled a clean cloth from a drawer and ran it under cold water from his kitchen sink. He let it soak then wrung it out repeatedly until he deemed it worthy. He thought about bringing a bowl of cold water but figured it wouldn't stay cold long enough for the next use. He would just make use of the sink again.

He was back at the boy's side in an instant, pushing his blond bangs aside and positioning the cloth on his forehead. Ed didn't react in the slightest. The episode he experienced earlier had knocked him out cold. As Roy continued to position the compress and run his fingers through Edward's hair, he noticed once again just how small his sofa was. Maybe he should move Ed to the bedroom..? The only issue was that the bed took up almost every inch of the tiny room, and Mustang wouldn't have room to sit and watch over the boy. That was unless he made use of the bed, as well, however. Roy shook his head. No. No. Ed would kill him. He was already in deep enough trouble as it was. But... Another glance at the blond started to waver his decision. Ed was curled into himself, and yet his feet were up against the arm of the couch. His knees hung off of the cushions. It _did_ look incredibly cramped... And the boy's fever _was_ spiking...

After a few minutes of mental debate, Roy sighed. They were both just going to have to swallow their pride.

Supporting the boy under his arms and knees, the raven-haired man lifted Ed from the sofa, being precautious of the alchemist's tender automail ports. He was taken off guard by the weight of the two artificial limbs, however, and Mustang was forced to abandon his first attempt and try again. After much struggling, the teen was (somehow) asleep in his arms. Being as careful as possible, he kicked open his bedroom door and deposited the young alchemist onto the bed. Roy straightened the rumpled sheets and tucked them around his precious subordinate, pulling the covers to his chin. He retrieved the compress and wet it again, pressing it against the blond's forehead when he deemed it ready. As long as he could control the fever, Ed would be fine. Mustang wouldn't let anything happen to his subordinate, even if he didn't quite know what he was doing. Nothing bad would happen. Not under Roy's watch.

xxx

Roy's head jerked up again, jarring him into consciousness once more. He had caught himself dozing off for almost an hour. The man had simply run out of things to do. He had done everything that he needed to, or everything that he could think of at least. Mustang had brought in a bowl of water, deciding to simply cool it with his alchemic powers every now and then. Sure, it was a bowl meant for cereal, but it was all the Colonel had and it did the job just fine. Then he brought in a trash bin in case Ed decided to be sick again. The man debated bringing in more blankets but then decided against it, considering the severity of the boy's fever. Roy had a thermometer, meds, an extra compress, and a glass of water on standby for when the teen would need them. He had food ready to be heated on his kitchen counter for when Edward was ready. A pile of paperwork and books sat in front of him, just something to keep him awake and occupied. He read the same page of a book seven times over before he realized he hadn't processed a single word of it and attempting to focus was simply pointless. So he moved on to his paperwork and found that the lines of ink blurred before his eyes. He then tended to Edward for a bit, checked his temperature, made him more comfortable, switched the compress, felt his forehead, checked his temperature for the second time in five minutes, brushed away his bangs, sat down, fidgeted for a bit, stood up, re-cooled the water, changed the compress, and finally forced himself to sit down once again.

He was just so... restless. Why was he so anxious? He felt like he should be doing more. Sitting there being useless pained him when there was a suffering blond next to him, tossing and turning in a restless sleep. Roy was terrified to fall asleep again. The last time he had, Ed came close to having a panic attack. Thinking back over his situation and how it was four in the damn morning and how he could barely keep his eyes open, Mustang decided it would just end up being worse if he didn't sleep. He didn't want to miss something about his subordinate's condition because he was sleep deprived. And besides, Ed would be right next to him this time. It would be fine. Roy wasn't exactly what one would call a light sleeper, but something told him that if he sensed something wrong with the boy lying next to him, he would know and wake up immediately.

It would be fine.

Making sure that he wasn't _too_ comfortable, Mustang stretched out on the empty side of the bed, facing Edward. He looked at the boy, frowning. A slight feverish blush had finally set on the boy's face, covering his cheekbones and nose ever so slightly. The rest of his complexion was shockingly pale. Edward shivered underneath the covers despite the sweat that beaded on his forehead and hairline. The teen was rolled on his side, facing Mustang, with his flesh hand hanging limply over his abdomen as if it were still in pain. His breathing was labored, uneven, and at times he coughed lightly in his sleep. Despite all of these physical ailments, his face remained blank and peaceful, uninterrupted by nightmares or restlessness even if it were just for a moment. Roy was glad the boy could at least sleep without being disturbed.

Suddenly, Ed choked on a breath and began coughing painfully. His eyebrows drew together in pain as he curled into himself, only semi-conscious. Instinctively, Roy sat up, reaching over to rub between the boy's shoulder blades. Edward calmed slightly, un-tensing his shoulders and loosening his chest. The coughing subsided soon after, still leaving Edward out of breath. His eyes were still closed as if he lacked the energy to open them. Nevertheless, the young alchemist's arm snaked its way over to Roy, feeling its way to the Colonel's shirt. His fingers grasped for the cotton material, clasping it tightly like an infant would. Roy smiled, laying down next to his subordinate once more. After replacing the compress, the man's long, calloused hands ran along the curve of Ed's back and back up again, reaching for his blond hair. He massaged the teen's back and chest and neck, any place that was subjected to discomfort due to the illness. His fingers explored, longing to provide a source of comfort and... What was the word? Love. That's right. He loved Edward like he would love a son.

Heat spread through Roy's chest, a startling yet calming feeling. He had finally accepted it. He was no longer denying that the prodigy in front of him was someone that he valued before anyone else. It wasn't a desire, no. Nothing of the sort. It was an instinctive calling, like a tug of affection that Mustang had no control over. Glancing at his surrogate son's face once more, he decided that he liked the feeling.

xxx

"Wh... Where am I?" Edward's glassy golden eyes were unfocused and dull, never staying put on one spot for more than two seconds.

Roy hadn't even been asleep an hour when the boy awoke screaming, which could not have been helpful on his throat. He thrashed and shouted, calling for his mother as well as his younger brother, seemingly in some hallucinatory state. It took the man twenty minutes to calm him down. The Colonel had nearly resorted to restraining his subordinate with the use of straps because of the way he was clawing at himself. Ed had yelled and thrashed and cried, and it was unlike anything Roy had ever seen. How high had his fever even gotten in the short time they had been asleep? The last time Roy had checked, it was at a steady 103.6. It must have gotten to at least in the 104 range. In the middle of the episode, Edward leaned over and vomited into the trash bin, nearly missing it. The bouts of yelling were only broken by rounds of coughing.

After a while, however, the boy had calmed enough for Roy to release his subordinate. Tears leaked from his glassy eyes, wetting the pillow underneath his head as he moaned. He was terrified, scared out of his wits. It physically hurt Mustang to see him in such a state.

"I killed her. I killed her. I killed her." Ed had repeated the phrase until Roy was able to grab his attention and distract the teen from his torment. Still, the boy was too restless and agitated for the man to even attempt to get a read on his temperature. When he felt of the blond's forehead, his heart stopped and his entrails turned to ice. That was way too hot to be safe.

As Roy tried to leave in order to retrieve ice to cool Edward's raging temperature, the teen grabbed at his shirt and begged him not to leave. So he stayed, trying desperately to get the blond calm enough to hold a thermometer in his mouth.

"You're at my apartment, Edward. I've already told you." Roy had found that using the boy's name helped keep the teen's focus. Trying his hardest to keep his voice from shaking, Roy held out the thermometer said, "Can you put this in your mouth for me?"

Ed's eyes flew around the dark room and eventually landed on the Colonel. "Dad?"

Roy's heart froze.

 _Tell him what he needs to hear._

"Yes. Yeah, it's me."

"Really?" Edward attempted to sit up, only to be gently pushed back by Roy's strong hands.

"Yes. I'm here." Collecting both of the compresses, Mustang re-cooled the water and dipped the rags into the icy liquid, not even wringing them out. He placed one on Ed's forehead and one on the back of his neck. It was the best Roy could do until Ed released him. Water dripped down Edward's face, but he didn't seem to even notice.

"Those... those are hot." Fear shot through the Colonel.

"Keep them on, Edward. It's important."

"Okay." His hand still gripped Mustang's shirt. "Why... Why is it so hot?"

"Because you have a fever." Roy stepped back once again, trying to make a break for the freezer but Edward snatched at his clothing in fear before he could make it more than two steps.

"No! No, don't leave me here." The rise in his voice triggered a bout of coughing, leaving Ed doubled over and wheezing. "Dad, Dad, it hurts," the boy moaned, swaying and quite nearly falling from the mattress. Roy pressed him back down on the bed, running his fingers through the teen's blond hair.

"It's okay, I know. I know."

Picking up the glass and a few fever-relieving pills, Roy said, "Drink this for me. It'll make it go away."

Ed started to retract, shaking his head frantically. "No. No. I won't let... you poison me."

"Edward, you need to drink this."

"I need t... to see Al. Where's Al?"

"Edward," Roy said, gently taking Ed's chin and turning it to face the man. "Look at me." Golden and watery eyes met strong, charcoal ones. Roy held the glass to the boy's lips, and he took a hesitant swallow. Then another. But then he turned his head away, causing water to spill down the front of his shirt.

"No more, I don't... He can't drink that..."

"One more, Edward." Upon hearing his name, the boy turned his head and faced the Colonel. "One more drink. Please."

"For my brother?"

"For your brother."

Slipping the pills between the blond's lips, Roy tipped the ice-cold water into the boy's mouth until he refused it. That should help for the time being. Mustang really needed to get ice... Maybe he should just break free and run for it? It was a sort of tough love situation. He hated it. But he knew he needed to do it.

"Edward. I need to go and get something." He retracted his hand, but Ed clung to it.

"No, no. Don't... leave. No."

"I have to. I'll be right back."

"No!" Coughs shook the boy's frame as he sat up and clutched at Roy's wrist. "I don't... I'm alone, don't... I don't want to be. No!" He choked out the words between bouts of hacking, struggling to breathe.

"Edward, calm down." He tried to pry the boy's fingers from his arm in vain. The grip was simply too tight.

"No, don't... I need him here! I'm alone, he's... he's alone. No, stay!" The boy rambled, gibberish spewing from his lips. Roy tried and failed to press him down to the mattress again. Ed was struggling too much again, and it was simply worsening the blond's condition. The boy coughed and thrashed, tears beginning to gather in his eyes. Nothing the Colonel said calmed him down.

"I c... can't... don't... Not him, no-" A harsh round of coughing interrupted his feverish rambling, worse than before.

"Hey, shh. Calm down. I'm not leaving." The man's words were ineffective. Edward continued to cough, gagging when he couldn't stop. It was getting out of control. What would his mother or father have done in this situation? How would they have calmed their son down?

"Edward, its okay. Shh." An idea popped into his head. It was time to swallow even more of his pride. He wracked his brain, trying to recover the words he had heard only a few hours before.

" _Sleep my child,_ " Roy began, pausing to remember the lyrics. " _Dream sweetly in the warmth and comfort of your bed."_ Ed's body began to relax almost instantly, his hacking becoming less violent. Mustang knew he couldn't sing and knew he was very out of tune, but it seemed to be working. And so he continued, humming when he couldn't recall the words. Slowly, the teen began to calm and fell back on the bed, holding the port of his automail arm. It was familiar to him, comforting the young alchemist when nothing else would. Hesitantly, Edward's grip began to loosen from the Colonel's arm and fell to his side. His eyes looked distant, but not in a bad way. He seemed to be lost in memories, caught up in the feverish hallucinations that his fever gave to him. The spell was only broken by weak coughs.

Still singing, Roy began to slowly back up towards the door, not taking his eyes off of the boy in front of him. He fingered for the doorknob, opening it as slowly as he could manage. He continued to back into the hallway, almost as if he were dealing with a dangerous animal instead of a bedridden teenager. As soon as he was out of the boy's sight, he made a mad dash for the kitchen. He ripped the entire ice tray from his freezer, dropping it on his countertop with as he searched his drawers for plastic bags. As quietly as he could muster, he threw open drawers frantically, rushing to get back before Ed noticed the man was missing. Roy grabbed the box of plastic bags once he had spotted them, gripping it with such force that he dented the casing. He tossed them onto the counter and grabbed the phone from the wall next to him, dialing his Lieutenant's number as quickly as he could muster. It rang several times.

"Pick up, pick up, pick up." He shoved the receiver between the side of his face and his shoulder, hastily filling the small bags with ice. He had to get back before his subordinate realized his absence and began to panic again.

The other line clicked and a voice crackled through the speaker. "Lieutenant Hawkeye speaking."

"Hawkeye! Thank God." He almost dropped the ice tray in relief.

"Colonel, it's five thirty in the morning. This had better be good."

"It is. I have Ed- er, Fullmetal here and I could really use some help with this if you don't mind-"

"Sir, with all due respect, your personal matters are really none of my concern." There was movement on the other line.

"Wait, wait, don't hang up!" Internally, he shushed himself. He couldn't have Ed hearing. "He's sick and I don't know what to do."

"He's sick? Why do you have him, sir? I can't say you're the most educated about this."

"You think I don't know that?! No one else could take him!" he hissed into the phone, scowling deeply and sighing. "Look, he's delirious and wouldn't let me leave for two seconds until I calmed him down enough, and I've only managed to do it once. He thinks I'm his father or something."

"How high is the fever?"

"I don't know, I can't get him still enough to get a good read. The last time I checked it was 103.6, but that was about two hours ago."

Hawkeye made a noise somewhere between worry and disappointment. "How high do you think it is now?"

"I'd say in the 104 range. I'm this close to taking him to a damn hospital."

"Maybe you should, sir."

"He made me promise that I wouldn't. He warned me, too. Maybe this is normal for him?" Roy groaned and threw down another bag filled with ice. "I don't know what I'm doing!"

"Clearly, sir." The woman sighed. "What else has happened?"

Mustang sighed. "His fever dropped for about an hour and then shot up again. He was complaining about his throat, head, and he can't do so much as touch his automail, either. He vomited a couple times and can't go a good thirty seconds without coughing. He's woken up screaming from nightmares and has been hallucinating since. He hasn't been lucid since yesterday evening. I'm about out of options here."

"That sounds rather serious." Hawkeyes paused for a minute as if she were having a mental debate. "Alright, sir. I'll see if I can get over there."

Roy sighed in relief, sagging against the countertop. He would finally have help. "Thank God. Thank you, Hawkeye."

"Just don't let him die before I get there, Colonel." The line made a click as she hung up the phone. Hanging up the receiver, he gathered the few bags of ice he had in his hands and ran back to Edward.

xxx

WELL I GUESS THIS IS COMING OUT IN THREE PARTS.

MAY OR MAY NOT BE OUT SOON. MAY BE A WHILE.

;-;

EHHH


End file.
